Onyx Orbs, for Love, and for Hope
by snapemartyr
Summary: In the aftermath of the final battle, Harry finds himself staring at the destruction with remorse that seems bottomless. Snape, at the very last, walks into those cruel, heart-rendering emotions. Harry is not always who he seemed . . .


_**A/N: I felt an enormous surge of toxin leave my body as I completed this- I do hope you will feel the same.**_

**{Disclaimer: the originals belong to JKR, indubitably}**

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**Onyx Orbs, For Love, and Hope . . . **

Harry found himself shaking. He was trembling with the effort of trying to hold himself back, but there was no warmth to be found in his efforts. A feeling of cold swept over him, more terrible and more foreboding than one ever before he had felt.

"I try and I try," he said, and found that his voice was trembling. He raised his eyes to Snape's for the first time, feeling inexplicably lost. "Sometimes I feel as though I am out of options," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Snape glanced at him cursorily and then his eyes flitted ambivalently in the other way. There was nothing that either of them could emit to the darkened atmosphere in the form of mere words; somehow, they felt as though it would take away from something that was being maintained in the air. What exactly that sentiment was could be nothing except the word enigma, but it existed, and Harry had no wish to break it.

Subconsciously he found himself moving closer to Snape. The room remained quiet for several moments. He glanced at his pale profile once more in the gloom, wondering that he looked rather like a sepulcher, for he was so thin and pale, and yet . . . so . . . so human. Snape cleared his throat.

He glanced up to find that the Potions Master was slowly extricating himself from the couch on which he had been sitting.

"Where are you going, sir?" he could not help but ask him. Snape gave Harry a glare that seemed to speak volumes, but, he noticed that it was softened. There were tears that glided past his heart on a note which trilled valiantly, as though a phoenix had soared over him, left it in a moment's time as it swept away quietly. He felt his throat begin to close with an effort, as though someone had glued its sides and knitted them tightly- he could not help but to glance up at Snape stare. The onyx eyes met his, and then his emerald ones were transfixed there, unmoving. He could no longer hold himself back. Snape did not leave, but merely stood where he was, looking at Harry with a strange glint in his eyes. It was almost as though he was seeing him for the first time.

Now, in the aftermath of the Hogwarts battle, as the smoke went up in spirals of loss out of the ruins, Harry had nothing to offer anyone. Those who had lived their lives in the confines of the meager matrix of his short life, were merely footsteps, that had gone on and left. There was nothing on the silent grounds now save for fragments of the castle, of his heart. Those who had made Hogwarts what it were gone, and, the survivors shadows that were left to watch that downfall. Their hearts were empty chasms where the bodies of the lost ones lay. He felt himself begin to choke up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. Snape did not say anything to him. Harry bowed his head, unable to maintain his quiet stance. His hair laced over his eyes so that they were hidden from the frigid light. It made him feel ill, as the ghosts of his past whirled about him, murmuring in tones that he willed out of his life and his existence. He heard the soft swish of a quiet fabric as it closed the distance between them. Before he looked up, he saw the black robes that were in furnished before him, rippling in the dim light. When he met Snape's eyes once more, he felt for some reason as though they had found a home- as though they had always belong right there. The greasy black curtain hung over his face, and the pale white lines were as enigmatic as a blank piece of chalk. Harry could not help it. With a tremble that was affiliated with his many trials, the past seemed to shake through him, and he shivered violently, just once. A warm, thick cloak was lifted, and draped over his back.

"Thank you," he whispered. Snape did not answer him. Harry willed the burning sensation away from his eyes. Despite the strength of his efforts, his tears would not listen, as they burned traitorously as though stewing a fire, one so hot that it left in his body a cruel ache. They trailed down his face lifelessly, as Harry lifted up his palms, and, without scruple, he placed his hands on his cheeks. He let the tears run over his fingers in a steady stream, and he could not wipe them away. He did not even know why he did it. The black boots of dragonhide turned rapidly and walked across the floor. Snape was now standing at the window of the Shrieking Shack, looking over the grounds with a dead look in his black eyes.

"I never expected to survive this war," he said in his smooth, dulcet tones turning back now to Harry. "But now that I have, it seems inevitable that there will be a way to survive this." His robes swished around him rapidly as he walked towards Harry again. He could not bring himself to look up again. He knew that he would never have anything to look upon but war and destruction. The burning embers of everything that he had once loved, would smote his sick heart now, forever . . .

A hand came up to his shoulder. It was soft, so subtle that it was a movement he might have missed, and, without realizing it- he did look up. He looked up into a black, onyx gaze that burned. They were eyes that, in truth, he had never really understood . . .

"Please forgive me," Harry choked. "I never knew. After all this time, I never really understood what you went through. I was- I didn't- " he stopped, unable to go one. He laid his head back down in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Snape did not answer him. He felt something hard up against him, and realized that Snape had sat down beside him. He could not bring himself to move a muscle. A thin hand was on his shoulder once again.

"There is no need to be, Potter. You always were." Harry looked up at him, astonished, and, as he gazed into Snape's eyes once more, he finally, finally, saw the truth written there. The enigma was gone, and Snape's heart was on his face. He felt a long rush of air leave him, and he sagged against him, feeling utterly defeated. He felt relief encompass his system, and he wanted to sob into Snape's chest, but he knew that there was no way in the world he could do that. Gently though, as though he would break into a million pieces if he would but to move him, Snape pulled his head onto his shoulder.

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Relief poured off of Harry in one long rush as he finally let himself go. He felt life as it surged through the cockles of his brain and heart, flooding every vein in his body with the golden plume of love and hope. He was finally . . . free.

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_**A/N: Please, I entreat you to give me some feedback . . .** _


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